


Strawberries & Cigarettes

by likeelliottsmithsings



Category: 13 Reasons Why (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, One True Pairing, Slow Burn, Song Lyrics, Teen Angst, Teen Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-06-17 06:09:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15455055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likeelliottsmithsings/pseuds/likeelliottsmithsings
Summary: Remember when we first met? You said "light my cigarette," So I lied to my mom and dad, I jumped the fence and I ran...When Justin text saying he needed me, there was absolutely no way I could have turned him down. There wasn’t even any hesitation, only my immediately telling him to give me ten minutes and I’d meet him. I didn’t even consider the large problem of my parents, who were sitting right next to me watching TV—them on the couch, me on the armchair.-------But we couldn't go very far, 'Cause you locked your keys in your car. So you sat and stared at my lips, and I could already feel your kiss….There was only one person I could call when my life felt like a total fucking mess and the only option I had was to drink myself into a fucking state of who-am-I-where-am-I-does-it-even-matter-anymore.  Half the time I could swear my cell phone dialed his number completely on it’s own; maybe he was my own form of 9-1-1.  Because whenever shit went down, it was fucking obvious I couldn’t call the cops - they’d haul my mom off too and that just wasn’t an option.  So I called Alex.





	Strawberries & Cigarettes

**Author's Note:**

> My absolute heart and soul, [@fmljustlex](https://fmljustlex.tumblr.com/) and I thought that the world deserved more Alex & Justin and this story was born. Please go show all the love in the world over on their tumblr page and while you're at it, click on over to their ao3 page and read EVERYTHING. You'll thank me.
> 
> Thank you, thank you, thank you for reading. Feel free to follow along for more JustLex adventures over on [my tumblr!](https://likeelliottsmithsings.tumblr.com/)

_Remember when we first met? You said "light my cigarette," So I lied to my mom and dad, I jumped the fence and I ran…_

When Justin text saying he needed me, there was absolutely no way I could have turned him down. There wasn’t even any hesitation, only my immediately telling him to give me ten minutes and I’d meet him. I didn’t even consider the large problem of my parents, who were sitting right next to me watching TV—them on the couch, me on the armchair.

I remembered meeting Justin the first time, purely through the one and only Zach Dempsey who had apparently thought it perfectly fine to leave me with the hottest guy in school that I’d never spoken to before. Like I wasn’t going to be even more fucking awkward than I already was in the presence of Justin Foley. It should have mattered less considering we were alone, but it only amplified the what-the-fuck-am-I-supposed-to-do awkwardness.

The first words he’d ever spoken to me were to ask for a lighter, for the cigarette already between those damn lips. Don’t ask me why I kept one in my pocket, but I’m sure it was my guardian angel preparing me for that exact moment. Like they’d known the universe would present Justin Foley to me in this exact way and was making sure that whenever it happened, I’d be ready for it. To make matters completely fucking worse—or massively better, depending on how you looked at it—he’d just flashed that damn smile of his, held the cigarette between his fingers and told me to light it. Mouth curving into that perfect smirk once I did, like he knew I completely couldn’t handle my fingers that close to his damn lips and the way my hand shook just proved it.

I knew from right then that he was the kind of friend my parents would be wary of. But I was even more sure they probably definitely wouldn’t approve of it being a something-slightly-different-to-friends situation, and I couldn’t even argue it to them because I had no fucking clue what it even was.

I just knew if I hadn’t been attracted to Justin before that I definitely was after, and any time he felt like he needed me bad enough to actually say so, I was prepared to leave right there and then. But it was late, to the point of it being dark out and my parents were definitely bound to complicate it and find some way to stop it from happening. So I had to find some way to stop that from happening and find Justin before he went and drowned himself in alcohol and self pity on his own.

So I lied. I all out stretched my arms behind my head, mouth wide open yawned. Mom looked over at me with a small smile and I knew it had worked. “Tired?”

I nodded and stood. “Yeah, I think I’m just going to go to bed.” Mom gave me another smile and I heard Dad’s ‘night, kid’ before I was jogging up the stairs and into my room. I didn’t bother changing, just put on a black jacket over the two layers of shirt and cardigan I was already wearing and grabbed the lighter from my nightstand, stuffing it in the pocket of my jeans.

I slid open the window as quietly as I could and looked out for a minute.

I knew I’d have to climb down the tree, took it into account the second I’d gotten the message. Justin and I had both used the method countless times before, me sneaking out and him sneaking in and I was used to it. That didn’t mean I was in any way happy about it. Justin was always better at it than I was.

Still, I’d do it ten times a day if he asked me—even though I knew he never would. It definitely made it worse when it was wet, my hands and feet slipping on the branches on the way down and making me cling on tighter than was probably necessary. But I managed it to the ground without breaking anything and crept along the usual path through the garden, climbing over the waist high fence and running down the road.

 

_But we couldn't go very far, 'Cause you locked your keys in your car. So you sat and stared at my lips, and I could already feel your kiss…._

There was only one person I could call when my life felt like a total fucking mess and the only option I had was to drink myself into a fucking state of who-am-I-where-am-I-does-it-even-matter-anymore. Half the time I could swear my cell phone dialed his number completely on it’s own; maybe he was my own form of 9-1-1. Because whenever shit went down, it was fucking obvious I couldn’t call the cops - they’d haul my mom off too and that just wasn’t an option. So I called Alex.

I remembered every single time he came to my rescue. Need a place to stay? He opened his bedroom window and stood back as I climbed my way up the tree closest and practically launched myself into the warmth. Need someone to complain to? Alex always fucking responded. He didn’t ignore calls or leave text messages without responses. He always answered. He always replied. Need someone to get high as fuck with? Alex would be there. I mean mostly it was always me getting high and Alex basically finding it hilarious - but whatever. He never fucking judged me and he always tried his best to help. Even if most times that meant awkward silences and him fetching first aid kids to fix up some Seth-inflicted wound.

This night was no different. Meth-Seth had been at it again. Really at it, honestly. There had been a solid amount of time where I was fully fucking convinced that I was going to die. And when I did manage to break free of the death grip around my throat and the louder than all hell screaming in my face, I ran so fucking fast for the nearest place I could think of and called my fail safe.

Meeting Alex wasn’t by accident. It definitely happened for a fucking reason - even if I didn’t have a clue what that reason was. But being left alone with him, watching the way he moved around me, the way his eyes never left my face… It all meant something. It was a good something and I never quite knew how to work with good things, so I left it alone for a little while. We hung out more often - mostly with the guys around - and slowly it became the guys and then Alex and I, on the couch playing video games or out back trying to see who could count more stars in the sky. It always ended in weird life talks about whatever the fuck was going on; because there was always way too goddamn much going on. It always really ended in awkwardly staring at each other’s faces, both too fucking scared to do anything about it. I mean, I hadn’t ever done anything with a guy but there was no denying the way every thought in my head automatically went to kiss him you fucking idiot every time we were alone. It never happened though. I could only imagine Meth-Seth’s reaction to me bringing Alex home as something more than a friend. The kid of a police officer - the son of a police officer. It’d be signing over my life immediately.

I’d take that death a million times if it meant that I got to have some happy fucking fantasy with Alex Standall for even just a few minutes. But our fantasy basically involved him sneaking out, finding me walking towards the park. It was the same one my mom used to bring me to before any of those assholes she’s dated came into our lives. I was glad to not have to walk alone down the street anymore. It was wet outside from the rain, damp and a little fucking cold considering I had run from the house without even thinking too much about it. All I could grab was my phone and be thankful that I had taken the liberty of hiding a pack of cigarettes in the center console of Alex’s car. I felt both of my pockets for a lighter and sighed when there wasn’t one present, defeat causing me to tilt my head back and close my eyes tight before I just fucking lost it right then and there. Don’t cry, Foley. You’re not a fucking child.

Of course Alex produced not only my hidden pack of cigarettes from the center console but a lighter that I am fairly certain he kept handy for me. Because maybe he knew me well enough to know that I would always forget one. Or maybe he was just my guardian fucking angel and he always knew exactly the right things to do at the right times. Whatever the fuck, I pressed my cigarette between my lips and leaned into the flame that came from the lighter flicked between his fingers. “Thanks, Standall.” For the light, for the car, for the company… For always staring at me like I wasn’t a fucking waste of time.

I exhaled a cloud of smoke and together we stood silently until I finished the cigarette despite multiple attempts at offering him a drag from it. When we went to get back into the car and realized the keys to our safe haven were actually locked inside, I realized that maybe my bad luck was rubbing off on him. Maybe I should get as far away from him as fucking possible so he didn’t end up like me. Fucked up and tossed aside and totally fucking clueless on what to do next. I didn’t want this to ever happen to him. “We can call someone to come get you. Wake up Zach or something.” I suggested, but Alex only denied the offer to leave and insisted we could figure it out. If there was anything I wish I could take from Alex Standall, it was that ability to have hope for the people around him. He always saw the best options for everyone else - just never himself.

Which is why we were face to face on the top of the playground at the park my mom used to take me to and he was staring at my lips without making a move. I could actually fucking see self doubt on his face when he looked at me like that. Like everything simultaneously made total sense and made zero sense and what the fuck were we supposed to do about it? That was when it was the fucking hardest to hold back from him. To not grab him and shake him and tell him I would if he would. Because kissing Alex Standall was really fucking high on my priority list whether he knew it or not. When he looked at me like this, like he could kiss me better… Or maybe we could kiss each other into happiness? I swear to fucking God I could feel his lips on mine without them really being there.

 

_Long nights, daydreams, Sugar and smoke rings, I've been a fool, Headlights, on me, Racing to 60, I've been a fool…._

 We’d taken to sitting on top of the rocket, my back against one side and Justin opposite me. It wasn’t a big space, and we were forced close enough the sides of our legs were touching but it still wasn’t close enough. It was painfully wonderful, a weird kind of intimacy sitting alone with him on top of a playground in the dark. I never really wanted to leave. I got the feeling Justin always felt bad about this, about needing anyone in the first place, and I hadn’t managed to figure out a way to tell him that that was absolutely fucking ridiculous. That it was basically my dreams coming true to get these long nights with him and I’d pretty much follow him anywhere and do whatever he wanted at just one look.

Literally my dreams, asleep or not. It was Justin in my sleep at night when I couldn’t control it and Justin in my daydreams when I could. Scenarios as simple and innocent as this, not even words needed nevermind anything more, sitting next to him in complete silence with our legs barely brushing like some lovesick fucking poem. But there was definitely also the involvement of scenarios not as innocent, with a lot more intentional and bodily touching. It didn’t help that he was always doing something that dragged my attention right to his lips—talking or smiling or laughing or frowning or pouting or drinking or smoking.

It was obvious that my eyes were going to be focused there now, as they molded around the lit cigarette, parting to release a puff of smoke, pulling up in the barest hint of a smirk because he fucking knew I was looking. I didn’t care, just looked more intently, the part of me that wanted him to just fucking kiss me already wanting him to know. Which was all of me. Justin Foley kissing me was all every single part of me wanted.

I managed to stop staring for a second only to watch his hand reach in to his pocket and pull out a pack of sour patch kids to deposit in my lap. Because he did always feel bad about this and he enjoyed his cigarettes the same way I enjoyed my sugar and he knew it. I stared at him questioningly but I already had a stupid smile on my face and he just mirrored it and raised his eyebrows back. “I’m not the one with the sugar addiction. All you,” he knocked his leg against mine.

I full on grinned at him at that, ripping the packet open—properly, as it always should be, not tearing the whole thing like Justin usually seemed to think was appropriate. I immediately started picking out the red ones and saw Justin shake his head.

“What do you have against the other colours? Do the red ones taste like strawberries or something?” Justin asked me, blowing out another puff of smoke.

I tilted my head. “Are you one of those people who assumes that because it’s red it’s strawberry flavoured?”

Justin raised a brow. “Is it?” I rolled my eyes and shrugged. If he wanted to find out he’d just have to try them himself, and I couldn’t understand why he hadn’t already. I’d usually take anything with sugar in it but sour patch kids were obviously the best option and it wasn’t just because Justin got them for me.

It was like the perfect show. I got to sit with my packet of sour patch kids and watch Justin as he smoked while telling myself it wasn’t creepy. Justin had watched me plenty of times, too. I was just keeping the pattern going. The most interesting part was still his lips, but I let my gaze focus on his hand for a moment when he raised it again. Of course Justin had nice fucking hands, he had nice everything else, and they’d definitely been a source of my focus before. I’d probably thought about his hands almost as much as I thought about his lips.

His lips, that were now blowing out perfect little rings of smoke. One, then a pause, then another. I’d seen him do it before, when he wanted to show off, and I didn’t really want to give him the satisfaction of being transfixed by it, but it was oddly fascinating. “How do you do that?”

Justin licked his lips and looked at me. “The smoke?” I nodded. “I—shit it’s really hard to explain,” he laughed. “It’s gonna sound stupid unless you’re doing it yourself.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Is this just you trying to get me to smoke?” I’d smoked a bunch of times, usually with Justin, and I didn’t hate it but I definitely wasn’t as into it as he was. I was a lot more content watching him do it and eating my sugar, and there was always that occasional little thought of ‘he shouldn’t smoke so much, he probably has such nice lungs’. Which was a really fucking dumb thought because he probably already didn’t have very nice lungs but it made me want to pull the cigarette out of his hand and tell him both his lungs and his lips could be used for much more fun and healthier activities.

But I was a fucking fool and a chicken and I was pretty sure I was never going to be able to do that. Not unless he did something first.

Justin grinned at me and pulled the box of cigarettes out of his pocket. He took one out and held it up to my lips, expression questioning. I parted them hesitantly and watched his face as he set the end of cigarette in my mouth, thumb brushing over my lip in a way that had to be intentional. He held his hand out for the lighter and I passed it over. He shifted closer, eyes all adorably focused as he lit it and then stayed there.

“Take a few drags without choking and I’ll consider teaching you,” he told me.

I rose a brow and sucked in a breath, holding it for a second as I took out the cigarette and then blowing out the smoke. I didn’t have to try that hard to suppress the cough my body wanted to make, so that was progress. “You’ll consider teaching me your mad smoking skills?”

Justin nodded seriously. “You’re really gonna have to try to prove you’re worthy.” I laughed at that, but he wasn’t kidding. He made me take a few more drags before wriggling a little, leaning more towards me. “Okay. This time try to hold the smoke, in your throat not just your mouth.”

That wasn’t a very descriptive explanation but I was not going to tell him I had no idea what he meant before even trying. I inhaled again and attempted to do what he said. The smoke gathered in my throat, blocking my airway and I immediately started coughing it back out.  
Justin laughed, but it was gentle. “It’s okay, I did that the first couple of times too. You wanna try again?” I sucked in another breath as an answer, holding it in my throat again. I was prepared for how it felt this time and managed not to cough it out and Justin straightened. “Okay, now like slide your tongue back towards your throat.” I gave him a look that I hoped conveyed what the fuck does that mean and he laughed again. “I told you it was hard to explain! Just like, curl the tip of your tongue against the bottom of your mouth.”

I really didn’t understand why he couldn’t have explained this before I had the smoke in my mouth because I was positively fucking sure it was going to kill me. My chest felt way too tight and I opened my mouth, coughing it out again. “You’re a shit teacher,” I said hoarsely, voice a rasp.

His hand was lightly stroking my shin and I don’t know how the fuck I missed that starting. But now that I realised it was happening it was way too distracting and I was about to become a shit student. I looked at him to see the bastard smiling. “No, I’m not, you’re just impatient. You know what to do this time, so try again.”

I rolled my eyes and huffed out a breath, but took another drag. I held it in my throat and curled my tongue the way I thought he meant before looking at him again. “Open your mouth in a circle and stick your lips out. Like a fish.” I narrowed my eyes, but did it anyway. He stifled a laugh and I glared at him, even though I’m sure it only made me look more ridiculous. “Okay, now just blow it out bit by bit like...move your throat like you’re choking. But don’t choke. If you make a lot of noise you’re not doing it right.”

That made even less sense than the tongue description, but I did something like a silent cough and a smoke ring escaped my mouth. Justin grinned and I did it again, another one passing through my lips and Justin hit my knee. “Yes, Standall! Told you I’m a good teacher.”

I blew the rest of the smoke out with another cough and rolled me eyes. “You are terrible with words.” He just grinned wider, shrugging.

“Well, turns out it doesn’t matter and you’re just a fucking pro.” He nudged me.

I rolled my eyes again, but I couldn’t stop smiling at him. He scooted himself to the top of the slide, wiggling his brows at me before disappearing down it. I laughed and slid around to follow him. His hands caught me at the bottom of the slide, taking my cigarette and stubbing it out along with his own before reaching for my hands again and pulling me up. I didn’t know how long we’d been here at this point, just that it was dark when I left and it had only gotten darker.

Justin ran for the monkey bars, hoisting himself up and giving me another grin. “Are you enjoying just standing there staring at me or are you going to join me?” He wasn’t even doing them properly, just hung from where he’d gripped on, doing fucking pull ups. Damn right I was enjoying standing here staring at him, and some brave (or possibly stupid) part of my brain urged me to tell him that, but I couldn’t.

“No, I’m not going to join you, you fucking show off.” I poked his sides as he was pulling himself off and he called out, kicking at me as he dropped a little. I grabbed him with a laugh, hands gripping his waist to stop him from falling. He didn’t lose his grip though, hanging a couple inches off the ground, every muscle in his arms taut. My laughing slowed to a stop as I stared up at him and he stared back, small smile on his lips.  
A car drove past the park, lighting it up with the headlights, shining on us. It lit him up completely for these few marvelous seconds, and he looked like some kind of fucking angel hanging above me like that. I wondered briefly if it would have looked like that to someone else, what kind of image we made, if whoever was in the car had even seen us.

“You should get home,” Justin said quietly. He dropped to the ground and I let go of him, taking a step back—spell sufficiently broken.

“I—we’re still locked out of the car. I need to get my spare key and come back for it. Shit, if my dad notices it’s gone he’ll kill me.”

Justin definitely started to panic at that, which was really unhelpful and kind of sweet at the same fucking time. “Do you think he’s going to find out? I don’t want you getting in shit because of me. I-I can tell him it’s my fault, that you let me borrow it or something or that I just took it—“

“Jesus, no, Justin. I don’t like, want you to tell him you stole my car just so I don’t get told off. He’d probably still tell me off for that and then he really wouldn’t like you. I’ll just come get it in the morning before they wake up. And if I fuck it up and they notice I’ll just, say I wasn’t feeling well and went for a drive and got out for some fresh air or something. It’s not your fault my dumbass locked us out anyway.”

Justin nodded, biting his lip, and I definitely did not stare at it. “Does that mean you’re gonna have to walk?” He looked genuinely concerned at the possibility and I wanted to roll my eyes and tell him that I could and I’d be perfectly damn fine, but I was more concerned at the prospect of my going home meaning leaving him.

“First,” I said, “it’s whatever we’re both going to have to do. I get it if you don’t want to come back with me but you can’t just stay here. I have some money with me, we could get a cab.”

Justin hesitated, probably getting ready to argue me spending money on him even though it was also myself I’d be spending it on. Then it started drizzling, small splatters of rain falling on the ground around us, dowsing our hair and clothes. Justin cursed and I tugged my hood up over my head. It was getting heavier quickly and Justin attempted to cover himself with his jacket, eventually just taking it off and holding it over his head instead.

“Fuck,” he said loudly. “You sure you have enough for a cab?”

I was already jogging out of the park, looking back at him. “Of course I do. Are you coming or would you rather walk?”

It was only a minute before he was running ahead of me, shouting over his shoulder, “I’ll race you.”

“You’re a fucking asshole,” I shouted back, but I was grinning as I sprinted after him, his laughter floating back to me.

 

_Remember when you taught me fate, Said it'd all be worth the wait, Like that night in the back of the cab, When your fingers walked in my hand…_

I won. I won the race, obviously - because Standall didn’t have to run suicide drills across the gym floor at every single basketball practice and I was good at running, literally and figuratively - but I won the bigger game. The spend as much time with Alex as possible because who knew when this magic spell I’ve managed to create over him would vanish and his friendship along with it game. Who knew when he’d get tired of me staring at him like I wanted to do something and I just couldn’t. Who knew when he’d just move on to someone worth his time. So sufficiently wet from rain and climbing into the back seat of a cab I promised myself I’d one day pay him back for, I really fucking won. Big time.

There was plenty of room in the back seat but we were closer to each other than we were apart and that was perfectly okay with me. Every single ounce of me wanted to be closer still. To just stop being such a fucking coward and grab hold of him and see if kissing him was as good as I thought kissing him would be. It had to be. He probably tasted like strawberry candy and cigarette smoke. Alex felt like everything good in the world that I didn’t actually deserve. He felt safe and like he’d be all in if given the opportunity, no fucks given about friends opinions or family approval or whatever the fuck else comes along with being a teenager in a relationship. He’d just be invested. He was already invested, obviously. That was why I felt like it was okay to call him when I needed him; that was why he didn’t hesitate to sneak out of his house where his dad was a fucking cop and would probably definitely catch him to just be with me; that was why he could likely feel the fucking meltdown brewing in my brain and tightening my chest and did something I’d been simultaneously dying for him to do and praying he would never actually do.

His fingers inched across the back seat in what felt like actual fucking slow motion. The type of shit you see in a cheesy rom-com movie. I don’t remember telling my brain to turn my hand over and leave it open for his to make a home atop it but maybe that just happened naturally. Maybe it was supposed to. Maybe it was fate. Maybe I was allowed just a few more seconds of believing that there was some way this could work out - this could be an actual thing despite all of the odds stacked against us. The way it felt for his fingers to slide into place with mine, interlocked and holding with just the right amount of pressure… This had to be right. Even if it was just for tonight.

“You look like you’ve forgotten how to breathe,” he noted with that fucking raised eyebrow expression that basically meant he was trying to read my mind for whatever I was thinking about. Right now I could barely remember my actual name. Because I had finally gotten something I wanted and I couldn’t figure out how I was ever going to be able to be the same after this. I had been telling myself it was okay to look, and to flirt and to very subtly touch - like the way I couldn’t stop my thumb from brushing against his lips earlier in the night - but it wasn’t okay to let him see you falling. It definitely wasn’t okay to get attached. Or more attached than I already was. Who knew how much longer I was even going to be able to stay around here with an asshole like Seth in my house and a mom who would rather get high than take care of her own kid… And Alex definitely didn’t deserve that.

But here I was, giving his hand a gentle squeeze in the back of a cab while we cruised through town, only passing one or two other cars in our journey. It must have gotten really late. “I’m alive, aren’t I?” I questioned back, but I’m pretty sure the way I twisted our hands to flip over and have mine on top - so I was subtly in charge of when we let go and why we let go told him that I did in fact forget how to breathe and was one hundred and fifty percent a fucking jackass having an internal crisis right now.

“At least until the cigarettes catch up to you,” he noted with that sarcastic smile of his and I couldn’t help but slump my shoulders forward and laugh. Even if it was quiet and only half heartfelt. I didn’t feel much like laughing at the moment. I felt like a complete and total disaster about to completely destroy his life without even meaning to. What if his dad was awake and waiting for us? What if his parents told him he couldn’t see me anymore? What if he didn’t think I was worth the fucking trouble? He’d be right, definitely. But I didn’t want him to even think that.

“Worried about my health, Standall?” I asked, forcing myself to at least attempt to sound like my normal self when my brain was overly processing everything from this night and all of our nights before and holyfuckingshit he’s still holding my hand even while we’re getting out of the cab. I could have sworn I heard him say ‘always,’ beneath his breath but we had stopped a couple houses away and the rain was hitting the concrete hard enough to distract my ears from his voice. Fuck you rain.

Another thing. Alex climbing up a wet tree to get into his room and get the spare key to his car so we could go back at get it? Terrifying. There was so much fucking potential for him getting hurt and caught and I am a complete and total asshole for making him do this for me. “Dude, let me go first.” I maybe demanded that a little too intensely but I felt better about being able to pull him into the window then letting him manage it on his own.

“What if my dad is in there?” he asked and then we both looked up at his room. Dark. If his dad was in there waiting in the dark he was a total fucking creep and that was going to be a whole other issue. I waited, silently, and watched for any sign of movement in his room. Kind of the way I would wait outside until I knew for a fucking fact Seth was asleep at home. I shook my head and grabbed onto the tree to pull myself up. “Be careful, okay?” He added and when I was up a little higher, I could hear him starting to climb behind me.

“You too.” I mumbled, grabbing onto the branch I needed to hoist myself up onto so I could reach forward and get into his bedroom window. The things you do to hold Alex Standall’s hand a little fucking longer. Launch into his bedroom as stealthy as possible and hope to holyfuckinghell that his dad wasn’t going to be greeting you. He wasn’t, thankfully. And I managed to turn around and reach out the window for a way to hold onto Alex and pull him in safely. He was a little unsteady as he climbed in so I put both of my hands onto his waist to make sure he was okay and had to actually stop myself from maybe swooning outwardly at how fucking amazing it felt to have both his hands holding onto my shoulders for support.

“Good?” I whispered after a few seconds of allowing myself to be that close to him. I had to actually force myself to drop my hands and take a step back. And I had to seriously force myself to stop thinking about all of the potential lip to lip scenarios that could happen in a dark room in the middle of the fucking night. God damn him, his potential sugar-tasting lips. Why couldn’t I stop thinking about them?

“I’ll get my key,” he whispered quietly and very carefully pulled open a desk drawer, trying to carefully rummage through until he found the spare. But I was too busy doing the thing I always did when I was in Alex’s bedroom. Looking around and being fully immersed in his world. Bands I had never heard of plastered to his wall. Interesting photos from school or parties scattered across his dresser. Books that I wondered if he was reading for school or because he liked to. Knowing Alex, it was because he liked to. Bed that was made but obviously had been messed up from him sitting on it before I asked him to rescue me again.

“I’ll be here,” I noted in a whisper while I made myself comfortable on his bed after discarding my wet jacket to the floor. The second my head hit the pillow, I was pretty sure my entire body had given up on our mission to get the spare, climb back down the key and return to his car. It smelled so wonderfully of Alex and felt so warm and made me feel like for once in my life it was fucking okay to just give in. Just close your eyes and be happy to be with this boy, in his room, away from the entire world. I mean honestly - not a goddamn person knew we were here together. And I was so fucking tired of hiding and running and half of what occured in my life that resting here was exactly what I needed.

“Move over,” he mumbled and my eyes opened only enough to realize he had taken his jacket off as well. Before I knew it we were both laying down on his bed. Normally, I’d one argue until I had a makeshift bed on his floor and he was comfortable on the bed because Alex Standall didn’t deserve to be put out of his own comfort zone for me…. But we both fit up here on the bed and for just one night, I managed to convince myself that it was okay. That the way we curled up to face each other and settled in wordlessly was fine. The way he looked at me until his eyes just wouldn’t stay open anymore… That was fine. I was definitely giving myself tonight and tonight only. After this, we’d have to go back to the just-friends zone. Even though this more than normal friends zone felt a million times better and I’d miss it every single time I looked at him. It was just what was going to be right for him. He didn’t deserve this mess….

 

_Next day, nothin’ on my phone, but I can still smell you on my clothes, always hoping things would change but we went right back to your games..._

I wasn’t really surprised when I woke up to find Justin gone. It would have been more worrying to wake him up to him still here, to the possibility of either of my parents walking in and finding him. I wasn’t surprised, but it was still really disappointing. Justin always argued lying in the bed with me—saying I shouldn’t be put out for him, even though it was probably one of things I wanted most. Last night we’d both been too tired and he didn’t have the energy too, had fallen into the bed before me and curled up next to me on his side when I joined him.

It was the best thing I’d felt in a long time, and it only would’ve been made better by waking up the same way. I knew it just wasn’t possible and told myself falling asleep with him like that had been enough. The sun outside was bright, likely late morning, and I shot up in a panic. I’d been too exhausted, apparently, because I hadn’t set any kind of damn alarm to get up in time to bring my car back before my parents woke up.

I rolled off the bed too quickly, vision darkening for a split second and I wobbled in place until it refocused. I stumbled over to my drawers, eyes searching frantically for where I’d left the spare key and not finding it anywhere. And that was definitely the worst part of this situation, because there was no fucking way I’d lost the spare and now had no way of getting my car.

I couldn’t have lost it, I convinced myself, because I hadn’t left the goddamn room and it didn’t get up and walk out on its own. It had to be in here somewhere, I’d probably dropped it, or forgotten that I’d left it somewhere else. Either way I was probably already fucking screwed and after seeing what it was past ten I was surprised they hadn’t barged in demanding answers hours ago.

Or maybe they had and I’d completely missed it, but Justin had still been here and they’d murdered him. The one true love of my life killed at the hands of my parents because of my stupidity, while I was asleep.

I convinced myself that thought was definitely the dumbest and most irrational. It probably hadn’t happened. Hopefully. I just had to find my fucking key and pray luck had been on my side this morning and they hadn’t noticed.

Then I saw it. Sitting atop my desk, my spare key, next to my usual set that had been locked in my car. My eyes widened as I walked over to pick them up, disconnecting for a second as I struggled to figure out what was happening. Had I dreamed the whole fucking thing? Now that I thought about it, it was entirely too plausible. Because these were definitely my keys and—I rushed to the window, looking down into the street—yep, that was definitely my car, parked safely along the sidewalk. What, the ever-living fuck.

I knew what had happened, the only possible explanation if any of it had been real at all. Justin had woken up before me, probably before everyone, and he’d gone out and brought it back before anyone noticed. He’d taken the spare key, climbed out the window, and probably fucking walked to the park to get my car. Then he’d driven it back, and would have had to climb back up to my window to leave the keys where I’d just found them, and climb back down to go before anyone found him. Without waking any of us up.

It was impossible and stupid and really extra and of course he’d done it, because Justin Foley was a literal fucking angel who was too good for this earth. Jesus.

A part of me didn’t even believe it, needed some kind of proof that I hadn’t just imagined the whole thing. He hadn’t left any kind of note. I walked back to bed and checked, but there was nothing on my phone either….

The only evidence was my black hoodie, lying on the floor where I’d abandoned it. I picked it up, the fabric still damp, and hugged it close to me. There was sugar on the sleeves from the sour patch kids and it still smelled of smoke and something else. Musky and wet and like Justin. I decided it wasn’t weird to smell my own clothes, and for as long as I could still smell Justin on them I’d keep it as close as I could. I was really tempted to just curl up in it and go back to sleep, because that was probably the closest to being wrapped up in Justin I was going to get.

After everything that had happened last night though—I allowed myself to hope. Not just last night either. I knew I was the main person he reached out to when he needed, that he trusted me enough to know I’d be there for him. He’d done that last night and it had led to so much more.

I could still feel his thumb brushing over my lip, his hands catching me at the bottom of the slide, his waist under my own hands. He’d let me take his hand in the cab, had kept his fingers laced in mine. I’d fallen asleep looking at his face, and he’d let me, had fucking looked back, until I couldn’t keep my eyes open anymore and fell asleep. The thought struck me suddenly that there was a chance he’d even kept looking, after that.

I wanted to be able to just look at him and have him look at me without having to think about it. Without having to guess the meaning of it, knowing he was just doing it because he wanted to. I think realistically I already knew that, because there was no other reason he would be. The only thing I was really waiting for was for him to admit it.

I was really hoping he would. It felt like something had shifted, and I was praying for it to change things. I was hoping more than anything that he would just make the move. I couldn’t have been more obvious, and I was sure he knew exactly how I fucking felt about him and I didn’t know what else it was that was stopping him. It was the main reason I didn’t make the move myself. There was something, and I didn’t want to push without knowing what it was and how to stop it from stopping us. I just hoped that I was being hard on my parents—that they wouldn’t disapprove of Justin the way I kept imagining, would accept him simply because they accepted me and wanted me to be happy. The idea that they’d have anything to accept in the first place though was just wishful thinking.

It seemed less and less likely when my phone remained silent for the rest of the day, even after I’d sent a text thanking him for the car. It stressed me out a little and I had to stop myself from sending a string of messages until he responded and I knew he wasn’t dead. I even considered texting Zach instead, more convinced he would actually reply and reassure me with probably only slight teasing.

But I resisted, because he was the one that needed to make the damn move and I wasn’t clingy. I really wasn’t.

When I had to go back to school the next day, I wish I had been. I wish I’d sent the slew of texts and called him repeatedly until he’d fucking talked to me because he hardly did then. It was like we’d regressed right back to the beginning, when Justin gave me his smirks and laughed at my jokes but kept a certain distance. When we were just in the same friend group and nothing more; when he didn’t care about me any more or any differently than the others.  
It felt like I’d landed on a shit space that flicked me right back to the start of some sick game, and there was no way out of it. I was destined to go around and around the board, being pushed back until it was too much and I was falling right off the edge.

And I was still falling anyway. Like the set back made it longer and the ground harder and the angel still floating above me didn’t save me, wasn’t going to save me. Because Justin Foley was an angel that was falling too, spiraling down and out of control and I was falling after him, for him, but he wasn’t going to catch me.

I would hit the ground hard and try to pretend it didn’t kill me.

 

_And even if I run away, give my heart a holiday, still strawberries and cigarettes always taste like you, you always leave me wanting more, I can't shake my hunger for strawberries and cigarettes always taste like you…._

I had given myself one night with Alex on the silent promise that I would never, ever allow anything else to come from it. I got my night of laying beside him, watching as he dozed off and falling asleep shortly after myself. I got my hands their few touches and my heart the feelings it didn’t deserve in the slightest. I had gotten to see him sound asleep and hopefully dreaming of something perfect - selfishly I hoped it was a dream about some place or time that we could be together without all of this baggage. But I didn’t have time to stay and wait for him to wake up and tell me about his dreams. I had to take his spare key, jog to the park and return his car back before anyone in his house noticed it was gone. I had to climb the tree again, leave him his keys and be gone before he woke up and saw me there. Because if he looked at me with those blue eyes that were literally begging me to stay, to kiss him a million times until we both couldn’t breathe and even still didn’t want to stop for air, to try to make this work… I’d be a goner. I’d give in and I’d ruin this perfect boy and the world of positive possibilities waiting for him.

My life sentence was already given. I was destined to be nothing more than what I came from. A complete and total wreck. A mess of a user who could never do anything right and always watched the happy, successful people from the outside looking in. I’d never allow Alex to get mixed up with this. No matter how bad I wanted to. No matter how much he made me think that I could have a different life every single time we were together. I had to throw up walls and distance myself from him before he got caught up and hurt and threw away any chance of having something good in his life for falling for a waste of space and time and energy. For Alex’s sake, I didn’t call or text him. I didn’t save him a seat at lunch. I tried to remember what it was like before he came to school. I tried to hang out with the jocks and only talk to him when we were in a group. I left lunch in a group and didn’t walk with him alone. I didn’t stop to talk to him in the hall or acknowledge him much during gym class. I tried to ignore the way he stared at me, the way he was trying to figure out everything that had changed between us. Most of me wanted him to know that nothing changed. My heart was actually aching from how bad it wanted to just be handed to him and never, ever returned back to me. It made me physically sick to watch his eyebrows knot up and his face seem to get a bit more pale every time he thought I’d include him in something and I didn’t. By the end of gym class, I had managed to successful rip my own heart out and it hurt like fucking hell.

My jacket still smelled like his room. When I was finished changing from gym class and slipped it back on so I could make a dash out the side entrance of school and skip the last few hallway encounters with Alex I had, I didn’t even think it was weird to snuggle into that familiar smell and hope it’d last forever. I was so busy trying to avoid him right in front of me that I hadn’t paid attention to the way he was sitting on the bench a few rows of gym lockers away from me. He wasn’t saying anything. He wasn’t even looking for me. His head was down and I could tell that he was just trying to figure it out. Trying to put it all together. Trying to see where he went wrong.

When he realized I had stopped there and was watching him, he looked startled. Then he looked away and all of the air I had left inside of me vanished. I couldn’t breathe even if I wanted to. And I didn’t - because I was a complete fucking asshole for making him have to go through this just so he’d be safe and happy and have a fucking chance… I was a complete asshole for never letting him know exactly how I felt. Because I could feel the way he felt about me radiating off of him every time we were together. It got stronger and stronger. It only made it harder for me to hide all of my emotions and I hated the way I had to be a complete and total mindfuck towards him just to protect him. He deserved so much better.

“Leaving?” He asked without looking up at me. He was leaning forward and zipping up his backpack to assumably stand up and head to his next class. I just nodded and shoved my hands into my pockets like a fucking idiot. I was staring at his face, speechless. Because holy fucking hell his cheeks were tinted red and his eyes looked so fucking sad and I couldn’t even see them properly because he wouldn’t look at me anymore. And I did that to him. By trying to do what I thought was right… I brought this onto him. And what’s worse? It wasn’t even being honest with myself. Because the honest part of me wanted to grab hold of him and never let go. I wanted to grab his face and crush my lips to his and tell him a hundred different ways how much I fucking care about him. How it’s completely and totally possible that I’m falling in fucking love with him and I can’t help it. I couldn’t stop thinking about the way I knew he’d taste. Like strawberry candy - like sugar so addicting there’d be no chance of stopping.

Again, he brought me back to reality. He was pushing past me. It wasn’t the type of way he’d normally move around me. He didn’t lightly bump our shoulders together or brush his hand along my arm to step around me. No. He collided his shoulder into mine in a way that told me everything I did was probably fucking right - I wasn’t good enough for him - but I was hurting him. “Thanks for bringing my car back.”

I couldn’t take it. It was one thing when it was me forcing this ridiculous distance between us for his own good. It was a completely different thing when he was hurting so much he couldn’t look at me anymore. “That’s what friends are for,” I tried to remind him that we had to be friends - only friends. I had to keep him safe. I had to make sure that Seth never got anywhere near him. That he’d never have to be wrapped up in the shitshow of a life I called my own.

“Friends,” his voice sounded like actual venom. It hurt more than I expected it to. And I didn’t blame him. But I was too fucking weak to keep on forcing him to be away from me. I was too weak to allow him to have that type of reaction to me. I wanted him to always think of me fondly. To remember the way it felt to sit ontop of the playground together and not care that we were locked out of his car or that it was going to rain on us… I wanted him to remember all those times in the pool house when we’d end up being the only ones awake together. All those times he let me crash on his floor and we told each other things we probably wouldn’t tell anyone else. I wanted him to remember why he wanted me. So much that I cut him off from whatever it was that he was about to say - likely some protest about how we were absolutely not just friends, I’m sure. Whatever it was, he never got to say it.

I grabbed him by the waist and stopped him from where he was headed. I turned him around and backed him up in one swift motion. I pushed him against the lockers - maybe a little harder than I had actually intended to - but Alex was strong and he could take it. I kept one hand on his waist, holding him inplace against the lockers while my other hand found a way to cradle his neck and jaw in my hand. I didn’t even have a chance to take a breath. I was pressing my lips against his and silently begging him to forget all of my shitty behavior, to ignore the possibility of this failing and to just let me love him for the next few minutes.

It was a whirlwind of emotions and the strange fight for dominance once Alex stopped being shocked and we both fell into a rhythm. I got my wish to kiss him until we both couldn’t breathe and he had somehow managed to wrap his one arm so tightly around me there was no chance I could back up. And honestly, there was zero chance my heart was going to allow me to ever be that far away from his heart again if we could help it. I couldn’t stop the spiral I had just kicked into place by wanting to save him from all of his hurting and I wasn’t sure I wanted to.

“Jus,” he sounded like he was asking a million different things just by saying my name and honestly? I didn’t have it in me to answer him with words. I wasn’t good with them. He said so himself. So I just let go of his waist and found his hand and laced her fingers together up above his head against the locker while I leaned in to kiss him again. Damn the bell, damn the next gym class coming in and damn any and every person who was probably shocked to see us making out in the locker room. I could care fucking less. I could barely remember my fucking name. All that mattered was that this was finally happening and I was never going to have to see Alex Standall unable to look me in the face again. I was never going to lie to either of us again and pretend that this wasn’t exactly what I’ve been wanting for a really long time.

“Come on,” I managed to say against his lips, not even bothering to pull back . I did slowly lower our hand while keeping our fingers intertwined. “Where?” He asked, swollen lips and out of breath from kissing for however long we had managed to stay there. If anyone would ever ask me what my favorite view was it was definitely, without a fucking doubt, this. He was fucking perfect. I wanted to completely remember this forever and I was fairly fucking certain my brain would never let me forget it. Plus his voice was soft, a little hoarse, eager but maybe a little timid. All justifiable. All fucking amazing. All so wonderfully Alex Standall, I couldn’t get enough.

And I didn’t think I’d have to. I’d managed to convince myself that being with him, being this close to him was going to be easier for me to protect him then distancing myself from him. I could keep him safe and happy and let him see how much he fucking meant to me without ever having to be apart from him. And that was reason enough to give his hand a gentle tug and motion my head just slightly towards the door, “Does it matter? We’ll be together.”

 

_Headlights, on me (and even if I run away) Racing to 60, I've been a fool (and give my heart a holiday) Still, strawberries and cigarettes always taste like…._

Justin pulled me out of the locker room and I could only let myself be dragged along, head spinning. My brain hadn’t caught up with the situation yet, and I was even more convinced this time that I was dreaming. I caught up enough to decide that if I was—definitely the most likely scenario—nothing was wrong with doing what I wanted to.

I dug my heels in and tugged on Justin’s hand until he turned back around to face me. I didn’t even give him a second to ask before I was kissing him, lips pressing urgently against his as I wound my arms around his neck. Justin immediately returned it, hands settling on my waist and pulling me into him. I could feel him smile against my lips and I pressed closer, a smile of my own forming. Justin had kissed me. Openly, in the locker room, where we could be seen. Then he let me kiss him, now, standing outside. Ready to take me somewhere—anywhere as long as it was together.

It had to be a dream, because that was the only way this would ever happen. But it felt so real. His chest solid against mine, his hands gentle on my waist, his hair soft between my fingers. It had to be real.

But that didn’t make sense.

It took all of my strength to push him away, and even then I couldn’t let him go far, my hands gripping his shoulders. If I let him go, he was bound to disappear. “Wait,” I said. “I—Why did you do that?”

He raised a brow, still smiling as his hands slid around to the small of my back, pulling me closer again. “Do what? You kissed me.”

“I know but before that, you kissed me. A while ago I was just waiting for something like that, for you to make a move, and you fucking pushed me away, Justin. I thought I’d been wrong the whole time, that you never liked me like that and I freaked you out and you didn’t know what—“

He cut me off by pulling me back in to another kiss, and I really did hate myself for not having the strength to pull away. This was shorter than the others and so much softer, simple and sweet and completely short-circuiting my brain. He moved back just enough to look at me, forehead leaning against mine. “I didn’t freak out. Or I guess maybe I did, just not the way you think.”

“What?” My brow furrowed. His hands were cupping my cheeks.

“I got scared. That you actually liked me. I…I mess things up. I’m messed up. You’re parents don’t approve of me and they’re right not to. I know that in a million years I could never be good enough for you, that you deserve so much more than me because you just….You deserve everything, Alex. And I’m not that. I thought I’d ruin you. I thought running was the best thing I could do.”

He rubbed his nose against mine, and I resisted the urge to kiss him again because I knew he wasn’t finished. “But I know you. I could see you hurting and I knew it was my fault and if that’s what my attempt at protecting you was doing then it was stupid and not worth it. All I want is for you to be happy. I just didn’t believe that I could do that for you, and I know now that it was stupid but I was just trying to protect you.”

“I do like you, Alex,” he continued. “God, I like you so much it kills me. I need you to know that. You know that, don’t you?” I nodded and he smiled brightly, a full grin with teeth on display and he was so beautiful I had to kiss him again.  
“I like you too,” I murmured against his lips before giggling as he peppered kisses over my face. “You’re still a jerk though.”

He nodded somberly. “I know. But I’m hoping,” he pressed a featherlight kiss to my neck, “that I can make it up to you.” I rolled my eyes, but I was grinning while he pressed a series of kisses down my neck, over my jaw, across my cheeks.

“Jus, we’re still at school,” I reminded him, voice breathy.

“That’s because you couldn’t wait until we got away. So impatient.”

“You didn’t even tell me where we’re going.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he shook his head, settling his string of kisses on my lips this time. “Don’t care. I’ll be with you. That’s all.”

“You’re such a sap,” I muttered, shoving him lightly and he grinned, catching my hand. He started dragging me away again and this time I fell into step beside him, swinging our arms between us. He rolled his eyes but kept grinning, tugging me closer to him.

We didn’t know where we were going, but I don’t think either of us cared. The realisation that we were finally together, that he was letting this happen, had actually initiated it and continued encouraging it, made me want to revel in it forever. I felt like I’d been waiting for it for so long that I’d somehow wished it into existence, and if I so much as looked away from it now it would all slip from my fingers, disappearing out of reach. A part of me was worried about it happening again, that Justin would change his mind or panic or realize he didn’t really like me and he’d be gone again. The rest of me looked at his smile and knew that wasn’t going to happen—that he wouldn’t let it.

Whatever destination we were headed to probably wouldn’t have been as far if we weren’t stopping at almost every streetlight to kiss against it. We were both guilty, but I could gladly say he was the bigger culprit. My heart was racing and I couldn’t make it slow down, but it was such a good feeling I didn’t even think I wanted to.

I let him kiss me for a moment before I thought back to what he’d said and I settled my hand on his neck, stroking his jaw. “My parents would approve of you if they knew you.”

Justin stared at me before laughing. “Yeah, of course they would.”

“They would,” I insisted. “If they...if they knew how much I cared about you they’d see it. I see how amazing you are. They’d get to know you and they’d see it.”

“...You think so?” Justin asked hesitantly. I kissed him again, nodding with my lips still attached to his until he was laughing and pushing me back. Anyone who didn’t see how beautiful Justin was was blind. Maybe he drank too much and he tasted like smoke but that was just Justin and I’d long since accepted it. Maybe it was the haze over my mind at his touch but I suddenly couldn’t see why my parents wouldn’t accept him too. Maybe it was wishful thinking and I’d never have their approval but Justin was the most important thing to me and I didn’t need it.

“I think so,” I decided. “And if they don’t, we’ll just run away for real.”

Justin laughed again at that. “You have it all thought out, do you?”

I hummed. “Yep. We’re gonna go to New York. We’ll pay for it with your modeling job.”

“Oh, I’m a model?”

I nodded seriously, unable to stop smiling at his smile. We could run as far away as we wanted and he’d still have this smile. He’d still have those blue-green eyes. He’d still taste like cigarettes, and I’d still want him more than I wanted anything else. Wherever my heart went, it was his; and now I knew his was mine.

 

_Blue eyes, black jeans (you always leave me wanting more) Lighters and candy, I've been a fool (I can't shake my hunger for) Strawberries and cigarettes always taste like you…._

I had convinced myself on multiple occasions that I’d never get to know what it felt like to have Alex Standall wrapped up inside my arms. That I’d never have the chance to kiss him or to love him the way he really, truly deserved to be. But something clicked. The universe finally decided to be on my goddamn side. And now I couldn’t get enough of holding him in my arms, pulled flush against my body, breathless from entirely too many overdue kisses. I’d never get used to seeing Alex with wide blue eyes, sufficiently kissed lips and blush coloring his cheeks. In fact, I think I’d do everything I could to see this sight every single day. The more times the better.

“Come here.” He was already close against me but it wasn’t close enough. I had my back against a streetlight pole and he was leaned against me, lips hovering just slightly away from mine. I slid my hands around the small of his back and for a moment we were like one person. Nothing could fit between us. I kissed him and kissed him and kissed him until I couldn’t breathe and we were laughing too much to continue. Never in my entire life did I get a high from kissing the hell out of someone but here I was. Loving every second of this public display of affection. On cloud fucking 9.

If anyone ever asked me what my favorite feeling was I’d answer with this: Feeling like for once I was worth a damn. And like for once, I had done something right.

“I can’t get any closer,” Alex mumbled, but he was still trying anyway. He used the top of his shoe to spread my legs apart just a bit more, widening my stance. I was smirking at that. But the moment he wiggled against me more, his feet close together and his entire body leaned into me, my smirk faded into something more serious. He was right. Sure the clash of his black jeans between my blue denim made us just a fraction of a bit closer, but it wasn’t enough. There wasn’t much we could do about the need to feel every single inch of each other where we were right now. I mean I had spent so long trying to imagine what this was going to feel like… I had to do this right. I had to actually pry my fingers off of him and maybe even let out a little bit of a groan about it. But then I reached behind my neck and untangled his arms from around me so we could actually make it to our destination. I did however make him soft promises between kisses to his lips about our potential closer situation. “Yes you can. Just wait.” Yes, I did actually mean it the way it came off. There were quite a few options where we could get closer together and they’d definitely occur in due time. But for right now I just wanted to memorize the way our lips felt when aligned perfectly together.

“Jus,” he blushed and honestly tried to reach for me again. Those grabby hands of his and the look on his face that said everything I was feeling. I wanted all of him. Now and for as long as possible afterward. What I felt for him - and him for me - went way beyond the realm of friendship or even best friendship. This was purely loving someone despite the odds being stacked against you. This was silent promises of standing up against whatever the fuck the world was going to throw our way because it didn’t matter - we had each other. “I know, I know,” I mumbled, lacing our fingers together and pulling him to my side. I gave in and kissed him again. Just once. Soft and lingering. “I feel it too.”

In order to get us to stay apart for long enough to reach our destination, I used my free hand to pull my pack of cigarettes from my pocket. I watched him use his free hand to fetch the lighter from his back pocket. “My hero,” I told him quietly. It was legitimately honest. But it made him blush. Note to self - make that happen as much as humanly fucking possible. It’s goddamn perfect. “My hero,” he responded softly, squeezing my hand. He waited until I unfortunately had to drop his hand momentarily to put the cigarette between my lips to flick the lighter and light it for me. I puffed out a cloud of smoke, put the pack back into my pocket and immediately laced our fingers together again. That was too fucking long not touching him. I’m doomed.

“You kind of taste like cigarettes,” Alex noted with a little smile and the type of staring that immediately made me regret the fact that I was smoking a cigarette and not kissing the fucking hell out of him. “You kind-of taste like candy.” I responded, seriously thinking about Alex tasted like exactly what I thought he’d taste like - red candy mixed with so many fucking emotions. The most addictive flavor, ever. “Strawberry candy,” I added with a grin.

“Not all red candy tastes like Strawberry,” he reminded, bumping his hip against mine. I grinned, “But all red candy tastes like you.”

“You’re so fucking mushy,” He breathed out and magically, reached his hand over to pull the cigarette from between my lips and place it between his own. I looked at him with wide, questioning eyes but a pleased smile. I couldn’t help it. “I’m a bad influence on you.”

“You’re not,” He promised, taking a drag - without coughing - and holding it in while, I realized, he was trying to remember my directions to blow out a smoke ring. I was fairly certain he was going to choke, but he did it. A couple of rings puffed out after a moment. “It doesn’t look as good as when you do it,” He coughed out the remainder of the smoke and I immediately took that cigarette back. “What?”

“It looks hot when you do it,” I told him with every ounce of confidence and sincerity I had in me. It was true. I had taught Alex how to do that and there was something really fucking sexy about that. Or, and more likely - everything about Alex Standall is so fucking sexy. Why did it take me so long to kiss him? Why did I let myself be fucking scared? Because I’m a fucking idiot who has wasted way too much time and had a whole lot of kissing to make up for. “But I’m still a bad influence.”

“Be a bad influence with other things,” He blushed at his own words, his voice was oozing with suggestion. I maybe tripped over my own two feet for a second there. Holyfuckingshit I didn’t see that coming at all and there was definite possibility that my body was reacting to those words without me telling it to.

“Sounds like you might be the bad influence, Lex.” Take a damn deep breath, Justin. You’re getting way too ahead of yourself. You can barely kiss the guy without melting into a completely, sappy puddle of ohmygodthisishappening. Plus, you’re finally almost to the park. Which Alex will hopefully appreciate. The place you should have had your first kiss together but you were too chicken to actually go through with it. A little re-do if you will.

“The park?” Alex asked as we approached.

This was maybe not as romantic as it had seemed in my head, though. When we arrived at the park and it was full of little kids and their moms, I basically wanted to ask the earth to open up and swallow me whole. I did not think this through. “Shit, Lex I didn’t-”

“Think that little kids would be at the perfect make out spot?” He questioned with a grin that made me actually stop giving a shit who was there, toss my cigarette to the ground and just grab hold of him to kiss him. “Come on, we’ll walk to my house.” He suggested after way too many kisses and a whole lot of restraint on both of our parts. “I just want to kiss you.” He added, a little bit of desperation to his voice.

“Okay, okay. Come on.” I mean really, who could say no to that?

The fucking universe, I’m telling you. It was making up for all the shit I had gone through in the past, I think. Because Alex’s parents weren’t home and there was a note with a plate of cookies on the table from his mom, telling Alex that they’d both be home for dinner. That gave us plenty of time for kissing. So much kissing. I wasn’t even sorry about my one track mind when it came to the kissing.

Which was exactly what happened for what felt like an eternity. We were together, on Alex’s bed, with him lying above me so he could set the pace. Because I could not be trusted to lead this right now. My brain was a million miles behind my heart and my body right now. Giving every single ounce of me to Alex fucking Standall? It sounded perfect. But I wanted everything to be really perfect. Perfect-perfect. Exactly what Alex deserved. “You’re sure about this?” I questioned him, tilting my head to the side because his lips were attached to my neck and I might as well give him a little extra room to do his thing. I was holding his waist, then letting my hands slide to the small of his back, then up to his shoulders.

“I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life,” Alex mumbled, lifting his head to look at me - blue eyes looking right into my own. He sat back a little, stradling my waist which should have been distracting but it wasn’t. Because he was looking at me like he really, really, really meant it. He didn’t feel like I was a mistake - he didn’t feel like this was a mistake. He was all fucking in. He was happy, despite the potential of chaos ensuing the moment he was a part of my life, and that made me so happy I couldn’t stop smiling at him. “You’re okay?” He questioned, eyebrows furrowed just enough to show me he was trying to figure it out even without my verbal response.

“I’m amazing.” I responded immediately, no thought required. “I’m good,” I promised when I saw the look on his face. I could tell he was trying to make sure. To be totally certain that I wasn’t going to back out of this and throw up walls and pretend that I didn’t want him with every ounce of my being just to keep him safe. But now that I had a taste of what it was like to be with him? I’d always want this. I’d always want more. “I’m never leaving you,” I told him in a whisper, reaching my hand up to touch his cheek gently. He nuzzled his cheek into my hand and placed his palms on my stomach so he could keep himself steady there, looking down at me. Then he closed his eyes and I knew right then and there, it’d always be like this. I’d always crave the taste of strawberry candy on his lips - he’d always think I tasted like cigarettes and like it. We’d always be there for each other - like we had been, all along - just more intensely. More affectionately. More like the way everything was supposed to be, even if I hadn’t been ready to allow it. I was now. And we weren’t going to waste anymore time.


End file.
